I'll Be Right Back - In The Heights Fanfiction

Ch. 5

(This begins and ends like my first oneshot, but it had been updated to be closer to the ITH script; it also has a new scene involving the line, "Hey, yo, I see some thugs comin', man, we gonna get jacked up!" I omitted quite a lot of time in between this chapter and the previous chapter, but I figured since I was posting two long-ish chapters in one day with the added attraction of writer's block, it doesn't matter. Enjoy!)

"¿Oye, que pasó?"

"Blackout, blackout!"

Neighbors shoved and shouted as they blindly fumbled to escape the darkness.

Sonny de la Vega staggered out of the pub and into the night, frantically scanning the crowd for his cousin. He only had two thoughts in his head: Usnavi's store and Graffiti Pete.

The jostling mob shocked Sonny back into his senses, elbowing him into a wall. He grunted in pain, and breathing heavily, he raced through the dark alleys to the corner store. Finally spotting the store's silhouette, Sonny's hand fumbled with the door.

Finally managing to open it with his sweaty hands, Sonny staggered into the bodega. Grabbing a baseball bat in one hand and flicking on a flashlight with another, he mumbled to himself.

"What's going on... the electricity... I better guard the store, see if nothing's going wrong... nothing is on... oh my God, we're powerless... powerless..."

Suddenly, another hand grasped his shoulder and whirled him around. Sonny gasped, bat poised over his head and ready to swing. Then, realizing it was Graffiti Pete, he breathed a sigh of relief and lowered his hands.

"Yo, yo, they throwin' bottles in the street; people lootin' and shootin'--Sonny, they wanna see a robbery. We gotta keep moving!" Pete's hand lingered on Sonny's shoulder as the teenager protested.

"Naw, man, I can't leave; we gotta guard the store!"

"They gonna bombard the store until you ain't got a store no more."

Sonny stared at Graffiti Pete. He wanted to leave with him, not to brave the thugs. But Sonny had to make Usnavi proud. He would never be noticed otherwise. He had never been noticed. He re-shouldered his bat.

"I got a baseball bat on a rack in the back."

As if on cue (literally), Graffiti Pete interjected, "I got a couple a' roman candles, we can distract the vandals."

Sonny grabbed Pete's hand and their fingers intertwined as Sonny noticed the shadows moving in the streets. Carajo. 

"Hey, yo, I see some thugs comin', man, we gonna get jacked up!"

"Gimme a light, I'll be right back."

Graffiti Pete detached his hand from Sonny's, leaving the teenager to watch as his friend dove back outside. Sonny waited for a moment, his hand still tingling from the contact. Then, bracing himself for adrenaline, he followed the artist out into the street.

He found Graffiti Pete rummaging through his satchel, pulling out firecrackers one by one while Sonny ran to close the grate. He yanked it down with all his might.

And it didn't budge.

"Coño..."

Sonny gasped as a teenage boy came hurtling at the bodega from nowhere. Without thinking, Sonny swung the bat as hard as he could, the wood colliding with the boy's stomach.

The teenager doubled over in pain, writhing on the ground. Sonny's heart caught in his throat. I could've killed him. Oh, God, what have I done?

Sonny had never hurt anyone in his life. He was only trying to protect the store... to protect Graffiti Pete... Pete...

A fist flew by his nose, narrowly missing him. He stumbled back just in time as Pete shoved him out of the way. Pete's fist hurled into the attacker's jaw in retaliation. Sonny sat in shock as Pete muttered to the thug.

"Don't--whack--you dare--whack--hurt Sonny--whack--ever!" With a final slap, Pete released the stunned teenager.

The gangsters scrambled away, but Sonny knew they would be back soon, with more people.

Grabbing Pete's hand again, Sonny ducked into the nearest alley.

"Hey," he breathed.

"Hey."

"Need help with those fireworks?"

"Yeah." Graffiti Pete set his load on the cement, lighting a match while Sonny held the rocket in place. The two of them scrambled back as the first shot rang out. It cast a purple glow across the sky, illuminating the alley for a few seconds. Sonny could almost feel the neighborhood stopping to watch the show.

"Look at the fireworks..."

He suddenly turned to Graffiti Pete. He looked so serene in the fleeting light, his head tilted just so, his hazel eyes so perfect. Sonny didn't know how what happened next happened, but one moment he was sitting on his knees, staring at his friend, and the next, he was edging closer, close enough to reach his hand over to Graffiti Pete's neck, and then he was leaning in and pressing his mouth on Pete's and the fireworks were deafening and Pete was kissing him back -he was kissing him back! And then their arms were around each other, pulling in for another moment.

Finally, Sonny pulled away, blushing and panting.

"I- I'm sorry, I don't know what th- "

Graffiti Pete slipped his hand under Sonny's shirt, hands resting on his back, and cut him off with another kiss.

"Don't apologize."

In that moment, the store didn't matter. The blackout didn't matter. Nothing mattered except Graffiti Pete, his strong arms locking Sonny in a tight embrace. They remained like that until the fireworks died down. Pete sat back and began to crawl forward to the other supply of firecrackers. Sonny struck the match this time. Once again, the thundering returned. Sonny leaned his head against Graffiti Pete's shoulder and sighed.

The stars were out.